


This Friable World

by Ais (mikaaislin)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Deaf Character, F/F, Fantasy, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Fantasy, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Non-Binary Character, No Lesbians Die, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Lesbian Character, Science Fiction & Fantasy, mute character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 09:27:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaaislin/pseuds/Ais
Summary: The thing is, for Mazra, it really isn't that weird that no one else can see or "hear" her friend who's probably actually her girlfriend. It's sort of just annoying because no one believes her. They say Aalya's a ghost, but how can a ghost be touched, or leave her things behind? On the other hand, if she isn't a ghost, how can she disappear right before Mazra's eyes? This all might have been weird enough, but it turns out this is only the beginning. Oh yeah. Also, there's magic.





	1. part one (or: that jacket tho)

"What's that?"

Aalya pulled a lock of choppy bangs behind her ear. It immediately fell back in front of her eyes. Her expression remained a down-turned mystery. Whatever she had been holding she now covered with gloved hands, nearly hidden themselves by her long hair.

"Seriously, dude?" Mazra swung her heavy bag off her shoulder and dropped to the bench next to Aalya. The bag rattled as it touched the pavement, all the glass jars inside tinkling against each other. "Just gonna ignore me?"

Aalya apparently _did_ plan to ignore her because she hadn't flicked her gaze over since Mazra had approached. And there was no way Aalya didn't know it was her. 

Mazra huffed out an annoyed breath and unzipped the bag vigorously. The zipper made a noise that sounded like a cat yowling.

A flock of students rushed by, nearly tripping over each other with laughter. Their sock colors clearly denoted their ranks and sects, as well as the school they attended. Mazra automatically read the information as they passed. What a diverse bunch that was, not caring about propriety or hierarchy.

Mazra dug around between the jars until she found the small round one with the imprints of flowers around the edges. She pulled it out and tossed it to Aalya, who barely caught it before it hit her knees. 

Aalya looked over, all wide marigold eyes against russet cheeks. At this angle, Mazra could see even more clearly the shaved section in her hair behind her ears.

Mazra sighed. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know?"

Aalya's lips tipped down on the edges. She returned her attention to her lap, with her hidden prize in one hand, and the other gently cupping the jar.

Mazra dropped her head against the back of the bench and stretched her arms wide to the sky. She closed her eyes and breathed in the crisp Autumn air. Soon, the weather would decide between the heat of summer and the cool of winter; but for now, the leaves fell and crunched beneath their feet, and the ground still radiated warmth that combated the biting breeze. It was Mazra's favorite time of year, for many reasons. Not the least of which was all the brittle pieces everywhere around her, bringing life to an otherwise pliant world.

"Don't use it all at once," Mazra said belatedly, in case Aalya was paying attention in her periphery. She stifled a yawn. "I won't be able to make more for a few days. But you know that already, don't you?"

They sat in silence, the two of them. Mazra reveled in the rare experience of sunlight burning against her eyelids, until a shadow covered the light. She peeked her eyes open and saw Aalya was holding up her jacket over Mazra's face.

Mazra looked at the jacket, then at Aalya. She smiled and let out a soft, "Heh." She took it from Aalya, their fingertips brushing in the movement. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Aalya squeezed Mazra's thigh lightly and went back to contemplating her gifts. Mazra crowded her bare skin beneath the comfort and protection of the jacket. Heat burned along her exposed thighs beneath her kimono-like robe, so she pulled the fabric down as far as it could go and moved the jacket accordingly to cover the rest. She could smell Aalya's scent on the thick cloth; mostly the scent of her shampoo, but also a bit of something that was inexplicably Aalya. 

Aalya almost never wore a jacket, just her oversized sweater always falling off one shoulder. The jacket she gave Mazra would never have fit over that sweater. Had she brought it simply to give to Mazra if she needed it?

Mazra smiled to herself. Sometimes it wasn't so bad to have left her hat at home.

Mazra must have dozed off. She was startled awake by a soft kick to her shin. 

"Shouldn't you be in the shade?"

Mazra peeked around the edge of the jacket. "What's it to you?"

Hysa heaved a great sigh and dropped onto the bench next to her. It was only then that Mazra realized Aalya had left.

_Thanks for letting me know,_ she thought sourly.

"This is what I get for caring about a childhood friend." Hysa leaned back against the bench and kicked their feet out in front of them. "Don't come crying to me when you disfigure yourself from idiocy."

"Oh come on. It won't be that bad."

Hysa cocked an eyebrow and gave Mazra a real strong side eye. "Do you not remember second grade?"

Mazra scrunched up her face. "I remember."

"Kind of doubt you do, if you're being this stupid about it." Hysa sighed again, even more heavily, and closed their eyes. "What a pain, what a pain. I can't even leave you alone. I'll feel too bad looking at your red ass face if you do get hurt."

"I'll be fine. I have a jacket."

"Hmm." Hysa looked sidelong at Mazra. "So you do."

They stared at each other for a moment until Mazra let out a grunt. 

"Fine, fine. I'll move." 

She pushed herself up with dramatic movements, zipped up her bag, threw it back over her shoulder and placed the jacket over her head to protect her. She stalked toward the nearby tree line, and wasn't surprised that it took a good two minutes for Hysa to bother to follow.

Hysa fell in step behind Mazra, their hands in their pockets, a knitted beanie hiding their dark shock of curly hair except around the edges where it twisted and turned cutely. Hysa always looked fashionable and put together, so it wasn't a surprise. What was a surprise were the long pants.

"Why're you covering your socks?"

Hysa shrugged and sped up to walk at Mazra's side. "Just felt like it today." Mazra gave Hysa a once over. Hysa raised their brow. "What."

"Kinda weird."

Hysa made a face. "Is not."

"Yeah it is. People are gonna wonder why you're hiding your stats. It's not like you're unknown around here. Unless." Mazra stopped suddenly, nearly making Hysa run into her. She turned on them quickly, intrigue fluttering her stomach. "Oh wow. Are you really?"

A flush of color warmed Hysa's tawny cheeks. They looked away, sterling eyes darkening. 

"You are?" Mazra gasped. She grabbed Hysa by the shoulders. "You _are!"_

"Shut up," Hysa mumbled.

"Sands alive, Hysa! This is a big day! How are you going to do it?"

Hysa rubbed at the back of their head. They still wouldn't meet her eyes. "I don't know yet."

"Well you can't just walk in there without a _plan."_

"I know that!"

"So then..."

Hysa scowled at the dirt-packed trail beneath them and didn't answer. Fiery red, orange and yellow leaves crumpled at Hysa's every move and flickered on the edges of the wind. Mazra felt the shape of them without even looking. Her fingers twitched but she did not reach out for that crisp and brittle comfort. The cool breeze felt nice on Mazra's heated skin, and somehow served to warm her lifting heart.

She smiled and wrapped an arm around Hysa's shoulders. Tipping her head against Hysa's neck, she beamed up at the canopy above. She could see the cornflower blue sky beyond, with white clouds tinged grey from shadow. The light speckled between the leaves, dotting in bands and rays down to them and the ground, where an ever-present game of hide and seek played out between light and dark. She felt the heat of that dispersed light on her sensitive cheeks, and had to pull the jacket down further to block it.

"It'll be okay, Hysa, you'll see," she said with a light jostle of her friend's shoulders. "I'll help you."

Hysa rubbed at one arm with their other hand, their head tipped downward in embarrassment, but pressed against Mazra's forehead in gratitude. 

"Thanks," they said quietly.

"We have a lot to discuss, then!" Mazra hugged Hysa quickly, completely, and then jumped away. She was getting more excited the more she thought about it. "Do you have class right now? We should go to the cafe. The one near Wejzn's. That way, if we see Crys you can..."

"Whoa, whoa, don't get ahead of yourself. Until I know what to say, I'm not going to..."

"So you were just going to loiter conspicuously at the castle gates, watching the students come and go while you're hiding your identity?" Mazra pointedly looked down at Hysa's covered socks. "You don't think that would make you stand out more than anything else?"

Hysa rubbed the back of their neck. "I don't want anyone to know who I am yet..."

"You're pretty memorable. That will happen regardless."

"I'm not _that--"_

Mazra punched Hysa on the arm. "Shut up. You're the tallest Firebreather I know. And one of the best in the city. People know of you. Probably even in other schools."

Hysa rolled their eyes and started walking. "Whatever. If you think that cafe's the best place to plan, then..."

"Of course I do. Trust me! You know I'm good at this."

"Yeah, yeah."

Mazra pulled the jacket over her shoulders like a cape, and tied the arms around her front. She absently ran her fingers along the shape of the cuffs, catching her fingernails on the raised buttons, and the embroidered designs. She hummed quietly under her breath, a hop in her step.

"What's with that jacket, anyway?" Hysa reached over and played with one of the lapels. "Looks military-grade."

"Oh this?" Mazra lifted the sleeve to her lips and inhaled Aalya's scent. It always reminded her of these cool and friable days. "Aalya gave me this, so I wouldn't burn."

Hysa gave her a flat look.

"What?" Mazra scowled and whapped Hysa's side with the back of her hand. "Why is this the one thing you never believe me on?"

"Because I keep telling you, Aalya doesn't exist."

"Yes she does!"

"Come on, Maz. People have been in the same room when you say she's there. I've been there when you claim she's there. No one ever sees or hears her, only you." Hysa dropped the jacket and shoved their hands in their hoodie pockets. "If you aren't lying about that, then the most logical answer is Aalya's a ghost who's haunting you. And that doesn't seem very logical to me."

"I don't know what she is. Maybe she's a ghost, maybe she isn't. But I don't think she is. She feels real to me."

"Yeah, well." Hysa glanced over through a forest of black curls. "Who ever heard of a ghost that could give someone a jacket, anyway?"

\+ + +

Mazra's home was unusually cold when she returned. She sighed, kicking on the heater as she passed. The lights flickered on at her movement, buzzing faintly in the gloom until a semblance of daylight filled the apartment. She had to pass what felt like a million mirrors as always, all sizes and shapes, ages and clarity, filling the walls and in some places the floor and ceiling. She avoided looking at herself as always, simply because it was disorienting. She did get distracted at one corner, though, when she saw a rash of red against one of her pale cheeks. With a grunt, she stopped and leaned forward to inspect, pulling her skin this way and that, moving in and out against the mirror.

Definitely burned.

She looked down at her thighs, and saw a rash starting there as well.

Great.

Aalya had probably helped keep this from something that would scar, but it was going to be painful for a week at least. She scratched at her leg, a mixture of pain and relief mingling into something mostly uncomfortable.

_You never learn._

Mazra's eyebrows shot up and she pulled back. Over her shoulder in the mirror, she saw Aalya. Standing in the hallway that had just been empty.

As always, Aalya was in her black skinny jeans with the rips, a large light-colored knitted sweater falling off one shoulder with her black bralette strap showing, and lace-up brown leather boots that were nearly worn through and had too many straps and zippers. Her earrings glinted in the light, and her hair fell in tousled waves nearly all the way down to her ankles. Mazra always wondered why someone with such long hair would keep it shaved in a swatch behind each ear.

But, more than anything, it was Aalya's face that drew Mazra. The slightly slanted marigold eyes, the thick dark eyelashes, the lips that were small but perfectly formed. The consternated expression she wore by default.

Would her voice have been different than what Mazra heard in her mind, if Aalya could talk?

Mazra pulled the jacket off her shoulders and walked forward, holding it out. Aalya looked down at it, then met Mazra's eyes without bothering to reach out.

_Keep it._

Mazra quirked an eyebrow. "Okay. If you say so."

Aalya watched Mazra's lips, unable to hear the words, reading them in shape as well as in thought. 

As always, Aalya knew the circumstances from that alone. She crossed her arms at her stomach.

_I'm sorry._

"It's fine," Mazra said with a shrug. "No one will ever believe me about you as long as I'm the only one who sees and hears you."

_I hear their thoughts too._

"Why don't you speak to them, then?" Mazra tapped her temple. "In their minds."

_They don't hear me._

"You've tried?"

Aalya nodded. _You're the only one who hears me._

"Hmm... Have you ever wondered why that is?"

Aalya looked troubled and turned away. Mazra sighed.

_Sorry,_ she thought, so Aalya could still hear her words without being able to see her lips. _I know you don't like talking about it._

Aalya's back remained stiff, unmoving. Mazra padded forward on socked feet and stopped behind her. She rested her chin on Aalya's shoulder and laced their fingers together.

_Sorry,_ she whispered again in her mind.

_You're angry with me for ignoring you earlier._

_I'm not angry, really,_ Mazra thought, _I just don't like it when I don't know what's up with you. Why wouldn't you talk to me then? What were you looking at?_

Aalya's shoulders grew taut. A prolonged silence stretched between them. Mazra sighed and rubbed her cheek against Aalya's neck. She was soft to the touch; comforting and comfortable, as always. Mazra reached up and pulled a heavy swath of Aalya's long, dark hair out of the way so she could lean in and lightly kiss the buzzed part of her scalp. Her eyelashes brushed against the army of loops and studs dotting Aalya's ear.

Aalya squeezed Mazra's hand and gently turned. They stood close, their eyes meeting. Mazra would never tire of the variation from chartreuse to bright gold that showed in Aalya's irises. Aalya reached up, her fingertips lightly skimming the rash on Mazra's face. Her expression wavered. Her hand slid back to beneath Mazra's flyaway wavy hair, tangling in the curls. She pulled her forward and down, making Mazra rest her forehead at the meeting of Aalya's shoulder and neck. Aalya slid her other arm around Mazra and held her close in a hug. Mazra smiled sadly and returned the embrace, feeling the warm beating of Aalya's heart reverberate against her own chest. Finding comfort in Aalya's presence.

They stayed that way for long enough for Mazra to almost forget what she had asked of Aalya. And then she remembered, and Aalya instantly knew, and for a moment tension might have built again but Mazra pointedly pushed the question from her mind. Aalya relaxed at that, and the two of them remained close enough to breathe the same mix of moistened air.

At some point, Mazra felt her legs tingle from standing still for too long. Aalya brushed her hands back through Mazra's hair, kissed her lightly on the top of her head, and released her hold. They kept their hands linked and walked through the empty apartment back and back to the combined living room and bedroom, where a futon served as both the couch and Mazra's bed. They settled onto it, with Aalya first having to pull her hair in front so she wouldn't sit on it. Mazra curled her legs up beneath her, while Aalya leaned forward and started the painstaking process of unbuckling and untying her combat boots.

_How long do you think you'll stay this time?_

Aalya looked up at Mazra's question. For some reason, she looked particularly pained. There was a wet glint in her eyes that normally wasn't there. _I don't know._

Mazra smiled at her, but knew without having to look into one of the many mirrors that it was a saddened smile, reflecting her inner mood. She reached over and ran her hand along Aalya's right buzzed side, enjoying the prickling of the short hair against her palm until her fingers slid into the thicker, heavier waves. She wanted to braid Aalya's hair all the way to the ends, then curl the braids around and around her arms until the two of them were so intertwined it felt like they were one.

Aalya's cheeks reddened. She looked away.

Mazra let out a soft laugh. _Sorry._

Aalya worried at her lower lip, the blush only deepening. _It's okay. I--_ Aalya played with the messy curly ends of her hair. _I don't mind._

"Heh." Mazra smoothed her hands all the way down Aalya's hair, from her scalp, down and down over her back, over her thigh, ending at where Aalya had pooled it up at her knees. 

_Really?_

Mazra ran her fingertips lightly over the curls of hair, up over Aalya's tremulous hands, down to the course fabric of her pants, ending on the bare peek of skin in the rip at her knees. She could feel Aalya trembling beneath her touch, and saw the way she bit harder on her lower lip. Mazra reached over with her other hand, a finger gently touching Aalya's chin, guiding her face up and over until she could see her expression.

Aalya's eyes danced against Mazra's; meeting and then gliding away, darting around the room only to pull back, magnetically, to Mazra's gaze. Mazra's smile widened. She slid her palm up to Aalya's cheek, reveling in the warmth of her, in that quaking gentle vulnerability no one else could ever see.

"You really don't mind?"

Aalya shook her head lightly, not breaking Mazra's gaze, not disrupting her soft touch.

"Well then." Mazra stayed still a moment, and then leaned forward. Their eyes grew closer, their expressions fluctuating, getting more pronounced. Aalya's scent overwhelmed her; something so pleasant, welcoming, familiar, but Mazra could never exactly place what it was. Not floral, not woodsy, not fruity... a smell entirely not of this world, yet still so familiar it warmed Mazra's heart and brought a flutter to her throat.

Aalya flushed. Her fingers twitched against her knees, and then she raised her hands. Placed one gentle palm against the back of Mazra's neck, and wrapped the other loosely, encouragingly, around Mazra's wrist. They grew so close Mazra couldn't focus. She saw Aalya's eyes close, her eyelids fluttering, and Mazra followed suit.

In the darkness behind her eyes, their lips met. Soft, warm, quaking, uncertain but welcoming. They barely brushed against each other before they pulled apart, barely a breath between them. Aalya's fingers twitched on Mazra's wrist, her hand was warm and encouraging on Mazra's neck. Mazra felt heat even brighter than the sun glow inside her. It started in her heart and stomach; pooled deep in her body and brought a giddy shiver all the way up her throat. 

Her heart pounded, and in Aalya's touch, she could feel that Aalya's did too.

They moved in again, both silently reaching for the same thing. They met at the lips, a deeper press, a quiet break apart, and then they met in the middle and this time they didn't stop. Heat overwhelmed Mazra's consciousness. Somewhere, one of them slid their mouth open; flicked a tongue against the other's lips and she opened hers too. Their lips and tongues cautiously, gently explored each other. Afraid to venture too far, afraid to pull back too much. Their hands stayed where they had been but grew firmer, more insistent. Now, Aalya was holding Mazra close, keeping her from pulling away. Not that Mazra planned to.

Their legs shifted, their backs turned. 

They oriented their bodies toward each other, the center of their respective universes.

How many days passed like this, lost in the simple pleasure of Aalya's touch? How many millennia did they live on that futon, gathering close the measure of their hearts?

Somewhere, the world continued to move, time didn't cease to turn, and Mazra's knees began to ache from her awkward position. She didn't want to pull away, she didn't want this to end. But she could not spend eternity in that moment, no matter what she may have given to try.

They pulled apart as gently and slowly as they had come together. Lips brushing, parting, brushing again in increasing intervals until slowly, finally, they were their own separate beings again, and not the amalgamation of their love.

Aalya's hand squeezed Mazra's wrist. She searched Mazra's eyes intently.

_Is that true?_

Mazra let her gaze explore every contour of Aalya's face; an adventure she never wanted to end. She reached back into Aalya's hair again, loving the soft texture, loving the weight of it. 

"Is what true?"

_That you love me._

Mazra looked back into Aalya's eyes. She warmed her palm on Aalya's cheek. "Of course I do."

Aalya's gaze was caught on Mazra's lips at her words, then moved back up with an intensity Mazra had never seen. She searched every nook and cranny of Mazra's expression, danced back and forth between her eyes. Searching, searching, for an answer she would ultimately find, because Mazra had nothing to hide.

"You don't believe me?"

_It's not that. It's--_ Aalya pulled Mazra's hand over, turned her palm up and kissed the inside of her wrist. Her lips remained there, soft against the beating of Mazra's heart.

"Does it have something to do with whatever was happening this morning?"

Aalya's gaze dropped but she otherwise did not move, and did not take her lips from Mazra's skin. Her breath rose in her chest, bringing Mazra's attention to the sway of fabric on her sweater and the soft black cloth of the bralette beneath. 

She was beautiful. 

Every part of Aalya was beautiful, from her touch, to her kindness, to her style; from her eyes to her lips to her hair, from her choice of earrings to the way she tied the bows on her boots, backwards from the way Mazra had been taught. Every piece of her, big and small, was the most beautiful being Mazra had ever had the honor to meet.

Aalya let out a quaking breath. She tightened her hold on Mazra, and pressed her lips down in a stronger, more desperate kiss. _No, Mazra. You're the one... You're the one who--_

Aalya was gone.

Between one blink and the next, just like it always happened, Aalya was here and then she wasn't. The warmth of her, the imprint of her body on the futon, they faded so quickly every time that it was almost depressing. Aalya's boots remained kicked over on the floor, and her jacket would still be where it had been left, crumpled in the hallway. 

Why was it that her possessions could remain, but Aalya herself could not?

Mazra sighed. "Whatever your story is, Aalya, it sure has terrible timing."

She curled her knees up against her chest and rested her lips against her inner wrist where Aalya's mouth had been seconds before. 

She liked to believe she felt her kiss linger. 

She liked to believe it meant Aalya remained there in spirit, if only a little longer.

 

\+ + +  
To be continued  
\+ + +


	2. part two (or: Oh My God Hysa Shut Up Shut Up Right Now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hysa's got a crush, and that crush is named Crys. But OH MY GOD HYSA WAIT--
> 
> Also, Mazra's having some problems. Actually, more like Aalya. Like. Big problems.

“You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks.” Mazra adjusted her over-sized hat and sat down at the table. It was a little windy today, so she had wrapped her hair up into a bun and pinned the hat to it to keep everything in place. Her short dress fluttered in the wind, as did her kimono. The table blocked the sun from touching her legs, but even so on the walk over she had felt the light burning too warm against her rashes.

Hysa propped an elbow on the table’s edge and rested their chin on their palm. They looked Mazra over. “I told you you’d burn.”

“Oh shut up.” There was no heat to her words. Mazra picked up the menu and perused it. “Did you order yet?”

“No, I was waiting for you.”

Mazra fell silent in response, distracted by trying to decide between a parfait and a sundae. She hemmed and hawed silently, debating between price and taste.

Hysa kicked her lightly under the table. “Just get both, idiot.”

Mazra raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes it’s like you can read my mind.”

“I don’t need to when you’re so damn obvious. I’ve known you practically since the womb. You know how many times I had to watch you order something only for you to freak out that you didn’t order the other thing when you finally get it?”

“No…”

“Well, neither do I. Because it’s happened too often.” 

“Fine, I’ll get both.” Mazra huffed and put down the menu. “What are you getting?”

Hysa blew out a breath and looked up at the clouds past their table umbrella. The ends of Hysa’s curls ruffled faintly in the wind.

“You have to get _something,_ Hysa. I’ll look so stupid if I have two things and you have nothing.”

The edge of Hysa’s lips lifted, barely visible past Hysa’s hand. “Glad to know you’re concerned about me and not yourself.”

“I’m altruistic like that.”

As if she had a sixth sense, the waitress stopped by their table with a soft smile. “Hi there. Are you ready to order?”

Mazra glanced at Hysa, who remained moodily fixated on the sky. “Yes we are. I’ll take the parfait and sundae, and my friend will have a small coffee, black, no sugar or cream, and this peach-filled puffed pastry thing on the bottom here.” She pointed at the menu.

“Sure thing,” the waitress said brightly. “And would you like anything to drink as well?”

“Iced tea, please. Thanks.”

The waitress smiled and gathered the menus. “I’ll bring them out when they’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Mazra called after her as she already whizzed away to the next table.

Hysa sighed heavily.

“Sands alive, Hysa, what’s wrong already? You’re acting so mopey.”

“It’s hopeless.”

“What is? Crys?”

Hysa nodded morosely, their gaze unfocused and still aimed at the clouds. “It’ll never happen.”

“What? Why not?”

“He’s too good for me.”

“You damn idiot. No he isn’t.” When Hysa didn’t do anything other than stare upward, Mazra leaned across the table and smacked them on the arm. And then again when the first time had no effect. “Come on! What’s wrong with you? We made progress on the plan yesterday. Why are you suddenly so fatalistic?”

“Because I had all last night to think about it. It’s already a tough sell, getting a Waterwalker to talk to a Firebreather.” Hysa dropped their head down into the crook of their elbow and moaned pathetically. Their legs kicked back beneath them under their chair. All Mazra could see from her angle was a rumpled beanie and a curled hand waving angstily to the sky. “This is the worst.”

“Hysa… Come on. You’re being stupid.” She gentled her words with a softened tone, knowing that Hysa was genuinely freaking out over this.

“No, I’m not. I don’t even know if he’d like me. I don’t even know what sort of person he likes.”

She reached over and rested her hand on their head, lightly petting them. “Yes, you are. You said you did research before. You said his previous SO’s were pretty varied.”

“Yeah, in looks! But what about their personalities? Ugggh, no one likes my personality except you, Mazra! Everyone else says I’m too standoffish.”

“You aren’t standoffish, you’re just shy, so you don’t always give people a chance to get to know you. But you would with Crys, right? It’s just a matter of him talking to you. He’ll definitely like you when that happens.”

“But what if he doesn’t? What if I make a fool of myself?” Hysa rocked their face back and forth dramatically. “This is the worst! The absolute worst! Why do I have to like him so much?”

“Why _do_ you like him so much?”

Hysa’s head shot up, their stark grey eyes widening and then narrowing. They slammed an open palm on the table, making a loud noise that made Mazra jump and drew eyes from across the outdoor seating. Some people passing by on the street even looked over. Mazra wanted to sink into the damn ground from embarrassment but she had no time to focus on this minor social trauma, because Hysa was loudly rushing forward in words.

“Are you kidding me?” Hysa nearly shouted, then dropped their decibel level only a little. Not enough, dear spirits, not _nearly enough._ “He’s perfect! But, in the way someone’s perfect as a human being with flaws, not in some creepy pedestal way. I mean! Even though he’s one of the top Waterwalkers, he’s friends with all sorts of other elementals. You know how rare that is when you get to his level?”

People were still watching. One of them was even starting to walk over, angled from behind Hysa where they couldn’t see. Mazra was so embarrassed she couldn’t look at the person; she shaded her eyes with her hand and focused solely on Hysa. “Hysa,” she hissed, “quiet down or shut up.”

“He’s really smart, too. Not the top in his class, but who would expect that with everything else? But I heard he helps others when they need it, whether or not he gets anything out of it. It’s no wonder I heard about him even from another school.”

“Hysa!” She kicked them on the leg. That person was only a table away now. “Seriously, people are—”

“And one time, I got to see him without a shirt while he was swimming. I swear to all that’s holy, I’ve never seen a more attractive body _in my life._ He’s so perfectly formed from balancing on the water, it’s practically fucking criminal. I don’t know what to do with myself when I think about it—” 

With a jolt, Mazra realized she recognized the person who was now stepping behind Hysa. _Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no—_ Panicked, Mazra jerked forward and grabbed Hysa’s wrist, because she couldn’t quite reach to slap a hand over their mouth. She hissed urgently over their way too loud words, “Hysa! Hysa, shut up, it’s—”

“—I get so flustered and all I can think about is running my hands all over his body so I can listen to that sexy voice of his moan, and I’ll say, ‘Crys—’” 

“You’re Hysa, right?” Crys stopped next to their table, his hands hooked in the pockets of his shorts. He was barefoot, and had his socks hanging out one of the pockets so that he was still displaying his stats. A faint sheen of water glinted against his bare calves, and when Mazra looked up she saw his short light brown hair was damp, taking some of the volume away from the wavy style.

Mazra felt her own face heat up so bright, it surely must rival the sun. She was about to die from secondhand embarrassment. She slid down in her chair, wishing to all the gods alive that she could disappear down into the earth and never be seen again.

Hysa, for their part, froze. Met Mazra’s eyes with the most horrified look she had ever seen on her childhood friend, then slowly, ever so slowly like this was some sort of slow motion waking nightmare, dragged their gaze over and up Crys’ long-sleeved shirt with its fitted arms and silky loose torso, up past the fashionable scarf he had looped around his neck, up past the quirk of his lips, and landed on his clear hazel eyes. His eyes were formed in a way that made him look perpetually sleepy, or perhaps a bit unimpressed, but in this moment it only added to the allure of his exclusive focus on Hysa.

“Uhh…” Hysa said intelligently.

Mazra covered her face and barely suppressed a groan.

“Did I interrupt something?” The humor in Crys’ voice only made Mazra want to die even faster.

“Uh…” At Hysa’s flustered tone, Mazra peeked between her fingers. Hysa had the good fortune of rarely flushing as easily as Mazra did with her far paler complexion, but right now that didn’t matter. Hysa looked like an animal caught in a trap; eyes so wide the white ringed their irises, gaze darting between Crys and over, desperate for help, to Mazra. “Um…”

Nope. _This_ was the actual worst, Mazra decided; not what Hysa had proclaimed earlier.

“Um, no,” Mazra said, making a valiant effort to sound normal. She straightened in her seat but knew her face would be beet red, so she probably was not helping matters at all. Fuck Hysa and their loud fucking voice and relentless fucking crush, seriously! “We were just…”

The waitress appeared like a godsend at Crys’ side. “Here you are, loves.” She set their orders one item at a time on the table and glanced at Crys as she set down the final item, Hysa’s peach pastry. “Sorry, I didn’t realize they were going to have company. Would you like to order something as well?”

Crys hesitated, his eyes falling on the pastry, and then Mazra’s parfait and sundae. It was clear to Mazra that he wanted to sit down but wasn’t sure if he was allowed. Hysa looked too frozen and panicked to function still, so it was up to Mazra to save the day again.

“Please join us! I have an extra sundae or parfait, if you’d like. I couldn’t decide between them so I just got both.” She pushed them both toward Crys. 

He looked down at them and then up to her eyes with a faint smile. “Oh. Okay. If that’s okay…”

“It is!” Damn, she said that a little too forcefully. “I mean. Really, you’d be helping me out. No way I can eat this all alone, and Hysa…” 

Hysa was staring in abject shock at Crys as he pulled out a chair and sat down next to them. Mazra kicked Hysa hard under the table, jolting their gaze from Crys over to Mazra. She peered at them, willing them silently to take advantage of this and make a good impression on Crys. Hysa looked too lost still to know how to be human.

“I’ll have a straight black coffee too, then,” Crys said to the waitress. She smiled, nodded, and rushed off. Crys looked between the parfait and sundae. “Does it matter which of them I take?”

“No, not at all. Whichever you prefer.”

“Thank you.” Crys pulled the parfait closer, and ran his heavy-lidded gaze over Mazra before landing intently on Hysa. “So?” he said to Mazra while running his gaze over Hysa’s features. “You were saying about Hysa?”

Mazra was getting too flustered now, herself. It took her a second to run back in her mind to what she’d been babbling about. “Oh. And Hysa… Hysa’s very particular with sweets.”

“Is that so?” Crys dipped the long spoon into the parfait, balancing a piece of cut strawberry on top of a mound of yogurt. “Does that mean you wouldn’t like something like this?” He held the spoon out, the metal nearly touching Hysa’s lips.

Mazra’s eyes got as large as the damn moon. Hysa stared at Crys, wide-eyed and tongue-tied.

“Maybe you want me to show you it’s safe?” Crys slid the spoon into his own mouth and out, chewing slowly without breaking eye contact with Hysa. He got another bite ready on the spoon, now slick with a glint of his saliva, and this time touched Hysa’s lips with it. A spot of white yogurt caught on Hysa’s lips and stayed. 

Hysa looked ready to combust. Literally. Steam slid between their lips, showing Mazra to her great worry that Hysa was starting to lose control. 

“Hmm?” Crys reached out, his thumb pressing against the edge of Hysa’s lips where the steam faintly showed. “Is this really so upsetting you’re about to lose your cool?”

Hysa’s chest rose and fell more quickly. They couldn’t seem to tear their eyes from Crys.

Crys’ lips quirked on the edges. He set the spoon back in the parfait and leaned forward, his thumb still on Hysa’s lips, his hand now curling against the underside of Hysa’s jaw. He came in close and whispered into Hysa’s ear, loud enough that Mazra could still hear it: “Oh? So quiet now, suddenly, even though you were so loud before. Where did that voice of yours go?” 

Mazra was genuinely worried her heart would stop from too many conflicting emotions hitting her way too hard at once. She was torn between staying there to help Hysa regain control of their power and voice, and getting out of there as fast as possible so she could leave the two of them alone. 

Hysa’s desperate gaze darted over to Mazra and caught. It looked like Hysa was about to die, too, although whether it was from happiness or horror, she didn’t know.

Crys shifted his fingers, a gentle curl of his palm with his thumb at the base of Hysa’s jaw. “Hmm? No answer?” His cheek brushed Hysa’s. “I know you’re alive in there. I can feel your heart thundering beneath my thumb.”

“Umm, I! I have to use the bathroom, so—!” Hysa jumped up and took off sprinting into the cafe, so flustered they nearly knocked over more than one chair along the way. And almost hit the waitress.

Crys watched Hysa go with a faint smile, then turned back to Mazra and leaned his arms against the table. “Too much?”

Mazra covered her eyes. “You heard everything, didn’t you?”

“Kind of hard not to, at the volume Hysa was talking. Will Hysa be okay?”

Mazra let out a low breath. “Yeah, they will. Give them a second. They’re the sort of person who is all loud and pushy until the thing they want starts happening, and suddenly they have no idea what to do.”

“So, forceful but shy.” Crys rested his chin on his palm and turned his heavy-lidded gaze to where Hysa had disappeared. A smirk played on his lips.

“Don’t tell me,” Mazra said in amusement, “that’s exactly your type?”

Crys grinned. “Got it in one.”

“Well, I guess that’s good since Hysa never shuts up about you.”

“Really.” Crys quirked an eyebrow. “Do go on.”

“Ugh.” Mazra made a face. “I don’t know if I—” 

_Mazra._

She jerked her head to the side, startled to see Aalya standing behind Crys.

 _There you are,_ Mazra thought. _Where’d you go last night?_

Aalya moved swiftly around Crys and knelt at Mazra’s side. She gripped Mazra’s hands, looking up at her. _You have to believe me—_

“What’s going on?” Crys looked behind him. “You looked like you saw a ghost, and now...”

_—I didn’t mean for this to happen—_

“Why are you looking down like that?” Crys leaned over to peer at Mazra’s side, exactly where Aalya knelt. “Is there a bug or something?”

_—I really thought I—_

Mazra squeezed Aalya’s hands, trying to keep the worry off her own features. _Slow down, Aalya, you aren’t making any sense. What’s going on? Why do you seem so panicked?_

Aalya’s eyes glinted wetly. Her eyebrows crowded together and her lips and jaw trembled. Even her fingers quaked in Mazra’s hold. Her breath began to quicken. _I—_

Aalya jerked suddenly, eyes shooting wide open. Her fingers gripped Mazra’s and she twisted, looking over her shoulder. Mazra followed her gaze. All she saw was a crowd of people passing by on the sidewalks on either side of the street. And beyond them, the buildings of the city, with the castles even further beyond taking up a portion of the sky. 

Nothing unusual. Nothing worth the terror in Aalya’s face when she whipped back to Mazra.

_They found me. They know._

_What?_ Mazra looked over again, her heartbeat leaping at the fear in Aalya’s features. _Who found you? What do they know?_

 _I’ve run out of time. Fuck! I thought I had—_ Aalya crouched forward, burying her face against Mazra’s thighs, nearly hyperventilating into her knees. 

_Aalya!_ Mazra placed her hands on Aalya’s shoulders and squeezed, trying to push her back, trying to get her to look up and make sense. _You have to tell me what’s happening. You’re freaking me out._

 _I have to go before they see you. Before they know…_ Aalya looked up. 

With a weight that shot her heart straight down to her stomach, Mazra realized Aalya was crying. 

For the first time since she’d known her. 

Mazra felt her own eyes tear up at the sight. Panic set in, a rush of adrenaline with the pounding of her heart, quickening her breath and trembling her fingers against Aalya. But she didn’t know what to do with this feeling because she didn’t know why it was happening, why Aalya was so scared.

_Aalya…_

_I’m so sorry, Mazra. I really…_ Tears coursed down Aalya’s cheeks and thickened the sound of her voice even in her mind. She breathed heavily, visibly trying to regain some control. She leaned down again, kissing Mazra on her bare knee. Wrapping her arms tightly around Mazra’s legs.

 _I really do love you. No matter what anyone says._ Aalya looked up at Mazra with trembling lips, and a smile that spoke only of heartbreak. _Please believe me._

_What—_

Aalya was gone.

But this time, instead of it being the usual disappearance in a lapse of Mazra’s attention—this time, she saw Aalya drop back in pain, clutching at the shaved parts of her head. Some sort of sigil glowed between her fingers on both sides, bright enough to show the build of her fingers through her skin: the blood flowing neon red through her veins, darkening only at her bones. Aalya didn’t look away from Mazra’s eyes until she was no longer there to look. Her mouth opened, a voice she would never speak unable to leave her. Aalya didn’t speak in Mazra’s mind but it felt like that wasn’t on purpose; it felt like she wanted to and now, even her thoughts were silenced. 

Mazra could still see the word formed so clearly on Aalya’s lips:

RUN!

But it was too late. By the time Mazra registered that horror on Aalya’s face, she was gone.

Mazra stared, shocked, at the empty space where Aalya had been. Her heart thundered a cacophony in her chest. She felt her entire body shake.

This didn’t make sense.

None of this made any sense.

What…

Somewhere distantly, someone was speaking, but Mazra couldn’t hear the words. She heard, instead, a new voice directly in her mind. A form of communication that had only ever been between Aalya and her, now twisted and made inherently wrong by a new voice in its stead.

_So you’re the one._

Mazra tried to ignore it, tried to tell herself maybe she was better off pretending she didn’t hear anything, know anything. It had seemed like Aalya didn’t want them—whoever that was—to know Mazra had anything to do with this.

But—

_I knew we’d find you eventually._

But how could she ignore the woman who now knelt in front of her and looked up at her with a wide smile? The woman rested her hands on Mazra’s legs, gentle at first but soon tightening into a painful grip. Her eyebrows rose. All Mazra could focus on was the same shade of marigold eyes as the woman she loved, turned cold and unfamiliar in the context of a new face.

“Say goodbye to your friends,” the woman said pleasantly. “You’re going far away for now.”

“What?”

The woman looked up and to the side, and Mazra automatically followed the gaze. 

It felt like time slowed. 

Crys swooped in, worry all over his face as he focused solely on Mazra. If she had ever wondered if people were lying when they said they couldn’t see or hear Aalya, or apparently anyone like her, she knew now it was true. He tried to kneel next to her and walked right through the woman, clearly unaware of her existence. 

For a horrifying second, his leg overlapped with her back; occupying the same space. A buzzing noise vibrated Mazra’s eardrums and set her teeth on edge.

Crys yelled and fell on his back, clutching his leg and looking shocked. Mazra barely had a glimpse of dark bruises and what looked like a red infection spreading quickly upward from the point of contact before she realized his voice sounded underwater now, as if coming from leagues away. Hysa was running back toward the table, panicked eyes and sharp words Mazra saw but couldn’t hear. It was all muffled and distant; an impression of voices more than an actual sound.

Cautious relief flooded Mazra. Hysa was here. Hysa would help. Hysa would know—

“Bye bye,” the woman said, singsong.

The world as Mazra knew it ate away on the edges like fire on paper. It rushed inward, zeroing in on Hysa’s shocked face as they reached the table— 

Before they, too, were taken by white oblivion.

Soon, not even that remained.

 

\+ + +

 

The bed at her back felt simultaneously too soft and too firm. The room felt too cold yet too humid. 

Mazra’s eyes shot open.

A white ceiling with inlaid filigreed gold patterns greeted her. She shot up, her heart racing on overtime. A panicked look around told her she was in some sort of opulent room—a bedroom?—and there were no windows.

She was alone.

 _What the f—_

She threw herself out of the bed and ran to the door.

It didn’t make sense.

None of this made sense.

Even her immediate action made no sense. 

She couldn’t understand any of this. She couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, where she was, why she was there.

All she knew was something felt inherently, inexplicably _wrong_ and the deepest part of her heart and mind screamed at her to get out get out GET OUT!

Her bare feet slipped and slid on the wood floor in her haste. She crashed against walls and ran down corridors and twists and turns in a blind panic. The longer she was in this innocuous home, the more something buzzed as if within her spine, in the marrow of her bones, in the depth of her veins and arteries—telling her she would fall apart if she didn’t leave.

A grand staircase led to a foyer. 

No windows, no mirrors, no way to see anything but this endless home, except—

There, at the end of the foyer.

A door.

She almost fell down the steps in her haste, and caught herself with a hold on the handrail. Inlaid stone against the wood was cold and harsh on her bare feet. The temperature of the house at large felt just one step off from what she would expect. Just this side of wrong. Just enough to make her heart thud harder.

She slid into the door, her palms slapping flat against the wood and metal to keep her upright. Her balance felt unwieldy, her head uncentered. Her fingers scrambled against the doorknob, shaking, trembling, a quaking from deep in her bones that made simple movements impossible. In her panic, she couldn’t remember how to grip, how to turn, how to get out of a goddamn house—

The door fell open.

She stumbled out into a bright summer day.

The air was warm but there was wind, more than she expected, and it had a chill. Her hair whipped around her, her clothing catching and flying, trying to lift to the sky with the currents. She felt off-kilter and stumbled to the side, then the other, and fell to her knees.

She couldn’t focus on anything, she couldn’t think, she couldn’t— 

There was grass beneath her, and that familiar, tickling sensation cleared the cobwebs from her mind; pulled the panic from her eyes. She drew in a shaky, deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut and curled down over her knees. Her finger dug into the grass holding, just holding, and she breathed.

In.

Out.

_It’s okay, Mazra. It’s okay. You don’t know what’s going on but you’ll figure it out._

_Breathe, Mazra. Just breathe._

She told herself this and it worked a little. She imagined it in Aalya’s voice and it was even better. She left her hair to dance in the wind, let the sun burn down on her sensitive skin for this moment, so she could focus inward instead. She didn’t know why such a blind panic had overcome her, but then again, maybe it was expected considering the bizarre day she’d had.

Maybe, she realized, this was all some sort of strange dream.

A nightmare, it would have to be.

Maybe she was still home.

Maybe none of that had happened.

 _Hysa would love that,_ she thought with a soft laugh. _Way less embarrassing with Crys._

That had to be what was happening. 

That made so much more sense than anything else.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

It’s all a dream.

She would tell Hysa all about this in the morning. They would kill Mazra for imagining the whole thing with Crys but both of them would get a good laugh out of it, and later, when Aalya would suddenly appear as always, she would tell Aalya too and see what she thought. Maybe there had been a lot more suppressed anxiety about Aalya’s disappearances than she realized. Maybe they needed to work a little harder on finding some sort of solution, if one even existed.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

_This warm grass in your hands, this heat on your back, the touch of wind on your cheeks—it’s all familiar, it’s all correct, it’s all okay. That feeling you have that something is off is just because it’s a nightmare._

Breathe.

Just breathe.

Mazra waited until her heart stopped pounding and her fingers no longer trembled. She focused on the feeling of her body, of her chest pressing against her legs with each inhale, and the compression of her lungs with each exhale. She focused on the sound of her own heartbeat, a drumbeat tempo for the music of her mind.

Finally, at length, she felt like she was back in control.

Finally, at length, she was okay.

She blinked her eyes open and waited until her sight readjusted to the bright sunlight. She watched the grass blades flutter in front of her, a rich chartreuse fading to hunter green in the shadows. They manifested the invisible currents of the wind, pressing down in waves, snaking here and there, flipping back up and shifting another way when buffeted a different direction. 

It was beautiful. It was calming. It was home.

She reached out with her senses cautiously, carefully. There was nothing brittle near her that she could feel, which now that she thought about it was disturbing because the season had seemed to change completely— but this was a dream, so it was okay, and if it wasn’t then someone must have brought her to another part of the world, featuring a different season. It was okay. She didn’t need anything brittle to survive, it just made her feel safer. Better. More complete.

Still, there was something on the edge of her senses that brought both a looming sense of dread, and a strange feeling of kinship. She couldn’t understand what it was at first. It buzzed deep into her senses, further down than anything else she had ever felt. 

Brittle.

That was what it was.

It wasn’t brittle, it was strong. Something almost horrifically powerful, solid. Something that felt as wide and large as the world. Yet, once she realized its presence, her fingers twitched with her wanting to touch it, to deconstruct it, to make it pliable then brittle then dance to her whim.

What _was_ that?

How could it feel so omnipresent, and yet so…?

She looked up.

Her heart stopped, stuttered, and restarted.

The sky was a grey-blue that shifted closer to teal and lilac on the edges. Clouds shaded butter yellow to soft white were huge, overwhelming, and far too close. Some raced across the sky, and others moved at a gentle pace so close she could feel the prickle of water against her cheeks and saw the world fade into the mist.

Islands floated around her.

Not in water, but air.

In varying distances, at varying heights, yet all too far for her to touch or reach— there were islands floating, as if they had been scooped from the ground and tossed into the air. She could see cities, she thought, and homes, and what even looked to be a castle or two. Each island looked slightly different, like the vibe of towns from different nations back home, and though she thought she saw movement like people lived there, she couldn’t tell from her vantage point.

She seemed to be on some sort of island, too. The grass, the ground, just _ended_ not far from where she knelt. She was too scared to walk to the edge, to look over; it felt like the wind might catch her like her clothes, toss her in the currents up to the sky, and let her fall to her death however far below.

As much as part of her wondered what was beneath her, whether she could jump from here to somewhere else to escape, the mortal part of her was too terrified to investigate right now, even crouched on hands and knees, even gripping the grass as if it could save her.

In the distance, she heard a buzzing, a great droning, that she attributed to her mind shorting out. But soon she realized that wasn’t it at all; it was an actual noise, or maybe a vibration more than anything.

It came from behind her.

With dread dancing a funeral march in her chest, she slowly turned around. 

The house she had left rose behind her; what looked like white brick at first glance but a second longer she realized wasn’t that at all. It was some sort of other material entirely; something she didn’t know or understand. It was stone, maybe, or tile? No, something else. Something she had never seen. 

The house itself seemed to fade into the mist, or— 

No. 

It wasn’t mist, it wasn’t clouds, it wasn’t shadows.

It was something so massive it stretched beyond her view, up as high as she could see, down beyond her sight past the edge of her little island. Except, she didn’t seem to be floating the way the other islands were.

That wasn’t shadow; it was a wall.

This wasn’t an island; it was a ledge.

The house itself was made maybe from that same material, but it was white where the wall was black. It had definition where the wall looked smooth. It had dimension where the wall was flat.

But it was a wall so massive, it seemed like it could span the planet.

That was what had drawn the Brittlemaker in her; that solid, unknowable _thing_ droning behind her, consuming her sight, becoming a windowless house she had woken up in and couldn’t escape. 

And it droned a deep, vibrating drone that rattled in her chest and made it hard to breathe. Not from pain, not from fear, not from vibration, but from knowledge.

Because in that moment, she knew deeper than she had ever known anything:

This was not her world.

She didn’t know what or whose world it was, but it wasn’t hers.

And she had no idea how to get home.

\+ + +  
To be continued....  
\+ + +

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More notes from when I first posted this:
> 
> As I mentioned before, this story is unedited. I want to change some things a bit; like shorten the time Hysa is tongue-tied or at least not make it feel like it drags so much, things like that. Is Crys too much? He might be. Do I care? I haven't decided. Poor Hysa. Also the flow can be improved elsewhere but I don't want to keep myself tied up with ideas of perfection that stop me from posting anything in the meantime.
> 
> This Friable World was originally going to be a short story I submitted to an anthology, and that was going to be the end of the story until I could integrate it into a larger storyline elsewhere (because I'm a dork who can't write a short story all on its own, no matter how I try. I always get excited and pull it into other things too).
> 
> I had another part after this which shows some things from a different POV but I decided to take that off for now and leave it at this.
> 
> Good news for you is I will write more parts to this, now that it's not going to an anthology. You'll get to see what's going on with Aalya, what Hysa and Crys are up to, what's going on with Mazra, and eventually you'll also learn why all of this is happening, and how. Some of these are questions that will be answered only or best when integrated with the larger story, or at least when the larger story is out enough for it not to be a spoiler here.
> 
> I don't know when I'll have the next part out for this but if you like the story, let me know :) I will definitely write more in the future, or at least, I definitely have more story in my mind for Mazra and friends.


End file.
